


turn me around when I'm upside down

by astano



Category: Dracula (TV 2013)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It should be no surprise that Lucy eventually finds her way to standing outside of Lady Jayne’s residence.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn me around when I'm upside down

Afterwards Lucy doesn’t know where to go. In her hasty flight from Mina’s rooms, she even forgets to collect her coat. It shouldn’t matter—it’s not cold at this time of year—but Lucy shivers anyway, arms wrapping tightly around her body. The streets of London have never seemed so unfriendly, and she hurries down one after the other, not thinking about a destination, only that each time she succeeds in putting one foot in front of the other, it seems like a victory of sorts, another step away from the place where her heart still lays, torn to shreds at Mina’s feet.

It should be no surprise that Lucy eventually finds her way to standing outside of Lady Jayne’s residence. Her tears had all but dried while she walked, but one glance at Lady Jayne and Lucy’s face crumples again.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Lady Jayne ushers her inside, and once the door is closed, envelopes her in a hug that has Lucy sobbing that much harder. She sags against Lady Jayne’s body, grateful for the warmth of her skin, for the hands stroking against her back and the nonsensical murmurs of comfort in her ear.

It takes some minutes for her to calm, and when she does, when she finally feels like she can raise her tear-stained face from Lady Jayne’s shoulder without dissolving into tears once more, she’s greeted with the sight of Mr. Grayson, poised halfway down the flight of stairs in front of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, her body already turning back towards the door. “You have company. I shouldn’t—” She shouldn’t have come. She barely knows Lady Jayne, and it’s not fair for her to impose, and so late in the day; of course Lady Jayne would have company! It’s just—who else could she talk to? Who else would understand about Mina. About—

“It’s okay, Lucy,” Lady Jayne says. Mr. Grayson nods along with Lady Jayne’s words, and Lucy looks from one to the other, uncertain. “Alexander will not judge you.”

~

They move into the sitting room, a servant following to stoke the fire before quietly leaving them. Mr. Grayson—Alexander, he insists, which is more than a little forward, but he is an American, which perhaps explains the complete absence of propriety—pours them each a glass of rich, red wine, which goes almost immediately to Lucy’s head, warming her cheeks and leaving her just a little dizzy. They sit then, before the warmth of the fire, and in between small sips and rather unladylike gulps of her wine, Lucy retells the evening’s events.

“My darling,” Lady Jayne murmurs, coming once again to wrap arms around Lucy’s body. “Mina does not know what she is missing.”

Lucy sniffles quietly—the wracking sobs of earlier seem to have left her now—and nods her head. She smiles shakily, and looks up, catching the sympathetic gaze of Mr. Grayson. She would not have thought—but she remembers his dance with Mina at the engagement party, and realises that perhaps he too knows the pain of loving someone so hopelessly in love with someone else. Perhaps that is a sorrow they both share.

Lady Jayne’s fingers brush against her cheek, soft, tender in their caress. It feels good, to have someone touch her with affection, to know how she feels, how she is responding is not wrong or shameful or evil or any of the other words of condemnation she could see in Mina’s eyes.

It only feels right, when Lady Jayne kisses her, to open her mouth, to whimper against Lady Jayne’s lips, and to accept the soft stroke of a tongue against her own without question or hesitation.

“Let us take care of you.” The words strike warm in Lucy’s chest, then pulse lower down when she realises their true meaning. She is almost surprised to find that she wants this, wants to feel something else but sadness for however short a time. Her head is nodding assent before the word slips from her lips, and she allows herself to be guided swiftly through the house and up the same stairs on which she’d first seen Mr. Grayson earlier in the evening.

~

Lady Jayne’s bedroom is understated in its decoration. The walls are a cream colour, and decorated sparingly with paintings from artists Lucy does not recognise. The furniture is sparse and seemingly free from a lot of the things that clutter most bedrooms Lucy has known, but the focal point of the room, and to where Lucy is now being led, is the large, four-poster bed, draped with rich velvet in a purple so dark it is almost black.

Lady Jayne sinks down onto the mattress, pulling Lucy to stand before her. Alexander—for it does seem strange now to keep thinking of him as Mr. Grayson—comes up behind them, fingers brushing over Lucy’s shoulders and against the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.

Lucy shivers under his touch, feeling even more light headed now—with Alexander’s fingers skirting her spine and Lady Jayne’s eyes gazing almost hungrily into her own—than she had earlier, under the effects of her wine.

They undress her quickly, then; skillful fingers undo buttons and ties, and a pile of clothes grows haphazard beside her. She hasn’t been naked before anyone but a servant (or Mina, but that thought is pushed aside almost as quickly as it enters her head, because this is no longer about Mina) since she was a child, and the feeling of exposure—the urge to cover herself—is almost too great. But even as Lucy’s hands move across her body, Lady Jayne reaches out, her fingers cool and sure as they curve around her own and draw them, together, towards the first button at the base of Lady Jayne’s throat.

Lucy almost loses herself in the hypnotic motion of unfastening one button after another, watching the increasingly rapid rise and fall of Lady Jayne’s chest as the backs of her fingers brush gently over heated skin.

She can’t hear anything beyond the sound of blood rushing through her ears, but she’s aware of movement, of Alexander divesting himself of jacket and waistcoat and shirt, before coming back to press against her from behind. His mouth lands hot and wet against her shoulders and neck, leaving heated kisses that send a pulse of desire through her body and make her fumble in the task of undressing Lady Jayne.

Their laughter at her clumsiness is light and not at all mean, but she blushes anyway, and gladly allows a steadier set of hands to take over. Then, in no time at all, Lady Jayne is stepping out of her dress and slipping her chemise over her head.

They fall back onto the bed—all three of them, with Lady Jayne on one side of her and Alexander on the other. Lucy glances from one to the other, watching as some sort of silent communication passes between the two of them.

She is unaccountably nervous, but Lady Jayne reaches up, cupping her face gently with one hand and reassuring her with a slow smile. “Is this your first time?” She asks.

Lucy nods. “Yes. It’s—I don’t want to stop.” They both laugh again, but it suddenly seems important that they know.

“Do speak out if any of this becomes too much.” Alexander this time, and Lucy nods again in response.

Almost as if they had been waiting for her to give them permission—and she supposes that perhaps they had—everything seems to begin happening at once. Lady Jayne draws Lucy’s face closer, kisses her lightly at first, but then deeper when Lucy’s mouth opens eagerly to the wet glide of her tongue.

Hands that feel too rough to belong to anyone but Alexander stroke over her body, sparking pleasure in their wake, and Lucy whimpers against Lady Jayne’s mouth, body twisting as she tries to press simultaneously forward into their kiss and back into Alexander’s touch, whimpering again in frustration when she can’t quite manage either.

The choice is taken from her, however, when Lady Jayne’s lips slip from her own, working their way over her jaw and downwards, peppering her skin with delicate kisses and the occasional sharp sting of teeth that leaves Lucy gasping out her need.

When she looks to Alexander, he’s gazing down at her with heated eyes, which serves only to make her want _more_ , and she reaches up, at once feeling bold and too aroused to care much of it, fingers gripping at the nape of Alexander’s neck to drag their mouths together in a kiss that’s almost clumsy, definitely unrefined and nothing like the slow, gentleness of Lady Jayne’s, but it leaves Lucy hot, almost wild with it, and desperate for more.

“Please,” she cries out once they part, surprised at the urgent sound of her own voice. ”Oh, please."

There’s a small flurry of movement then. Alexander slips behind her, almost cradling her body with his, and she can feel him, for the first time, hard against her lower back. She wriggles backwards, taking delight in the feel of his body twitching up, but then any further thought of teasing is stripped from her mind when Lady Jayne settles between her legs.

This is not at all how she would have imagined the natural progression of events to go, but when Lady Jayne smooths her palms over the insides of Lucy’s thighs she opens them willingly, cries out softly in encouragement when a kiss is placed where thigh meets hip, and when Lady Jayne dips her head further, tongue dragging over Lucy’s heated skin, and she cries out again.

She’s touched herself before—drawn out her climax with fumbling fingers, late at night when thoughts of Mina refuse to leave her be—but the warmth of Lady Jayne’s tongue, the direct way it seeks out the source of her pleasure, is so much different, and almost more than Lucy can bear.

She whimpers incoherently, hips pushing rhythmically upwards, and dimly, she’s aware of Alexander’s hands smoothing over her shoulders, followed swiftly by lips pressing against her neck, the sensation melding with that of Lady Jayne’s mouth between her legs and sending her speeding towards a release that could quite possibly drive her out of her mind.

Her fingers reach out blindly, searching for purchase on the smooth silk of the bed sheets and finding none, simply opening and closing uselessly for long seconds until another pair of hands slide over and Alexander’s large fingers tangle with her own.

Her head tips back against Alexander’s shoulder, the delicate skin bared for his mouth, and when his teeth graze her, sharper than she expects, it’s that surprising bolt of pain, more than anything else, that sends her tumbling into climax.

Alexander holds her steady, keeps her grounded as Lady Jayne’s mouth works against her long after the first intense shudders have passed, until her touch is soothing more than it is exciting, and Lucy sags backwards with a heavy, pleased sigh.

~

They had allowed her to rest then, sated and… not happy, but certainly less unhappy than she had been earlier in the evening. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knows is waking in the night to the feel of Lady Jayne’s body pressed close against her own, the sound of her breathing loud in the darkness.

All at once, the full events of the day before come rushing back into Lucy’s mind, and a sob wells up in her chest as she remembers Mina’s harsh words, feels the sting of her rejection once again. Before the sob works its way out, however, the comforting weight of Lady Jayne’s arm slides around Lucy’s waist, pulling her back into an embrace that seems to anchor Lucy, remind her that she has someone—two someones—who took care of her when she needed it the most, and suddenly, she feels just the slightest amount better.

It’s almost easy then to let the warmth of Lady Jayne’s body press against her back and lull her softly back to sleep.


End file.
